


The Satyr and the Nymph Prince

by Kougayon



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Anal Sex, Ass to Mouth, Blow Jobs, Fauns & Satyrs, Fluff, Gentle Sex, Goro beats someone up, Love at First Sight, M/M, Nymphs & Dryads, ass eating, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 03:48:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19287493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kougayon/pseuds/Kougayon
Summary: “I know that look on your face, I’ve seen it in hundreds of your kind,” the grin that stretches across Morgana’s face just then closely resembles that of a Cheshire Cat. “That’s the face of a satyr who’s in love~”Akira sputters as a blush burns into his cheeks. “Shut up...”|| I.E. Au where Akira is a satyr and Akechi is a forest nymph who Akira is instantly gay for ||





	The Satyr and the Nymph Prince

**Author's Note:**

> I love fantasy AUs so much. Nobody ever gives Satyrs any love and that makes me sad. So here’s a little something I whipped up on a whim for a few friends who gave me this wonderful au idea!
> 
> I hope y’all enjoy!!

Yongen Forest, a beautiful territory of woodlands located near to an eastern coastal side, hidden away from the majority of mankind’s curious eyes. It is a thriving land of woods, home to many, many different mythical creatures for countless centuries. 

 

The most common and important of these creatures being the ‘Nymphs.’ The nymphs are essentially guardians of the forest lands. They are tasked with bringing life to their surroundings, creating floral life as well as keeping their creations safe from all harm. They have protected the forestries for as long as the forests have been alive. 

 

Although, magic for them has its limitations…Nymphs are only capable of creating things to add to the forest when they feel a sense of comfort and security; happiness, essentially. Without these vital senses of serenity and intimacy, they struggle to maintain their powers. 

 

Luckily, however, another race of creatures coexist with them. They are the ‘Satyrs.’ Half-man, half-goat mythos whom’s tasks are quite important and go hand in hand with their gentle counterparts. The satyrs are meant to protect the nymphs as well as maintaining their health and keeping them happy. Therefore, every spring, when nymphs and satyrs alike reach a certain age, they often come together in search of one another as mates for life; as part of a natural order for generations. 

 

It’s quite an important decision, really. After all, whatever nymph a satyr chooses and vice versa, they are officially endeavored with the responsibility of loving and protecting the forest dweller for the rest of their hollow-horned lives. 

 

All of these thoughts explode across young Kurusu Akira’s mind as he makes his way to the center meadow of the forest. He’s a newcomer here, after all. A stranger to these woodlands and fairly unwelcomed as far as most of the other creatures here are concerned. Ah well, maybe they’ll warm up to him eventually. Hell, he  _ did  _ at least manage to make  _ some  _ friends in these plush woods. A blonde foreign nymph from the seas, her centaur friend of childhood, a local peryton guardian with a knack for painting, and a strange black and white veiled nekomata from the nearby mountains who occasionally checks on him. He’ll likely meet many more during his stay in his new home. 

 

Regardless, he’s of age now; and the wooded meadow areas of the forest is where the nymphs gather in search of worthy satyr suitors. Admittedly, Akira has hardly had any proper interactions with nymphs until now. Nor has he ever been taught how to approach one. All he has to go by is his own wits and instincts. 

 

Who knows, maybe it’ll be enough. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


“Twelve hours, Morgana.  _ Twelve hours  _ I’ve been wandering around this stupid place and not a single nymph has appealed to me nor even wants me,” Akira groans, his bow legs tired from all the chasing and walking around the shady meadow. “Is this normal..? I sort of—I don’t know, expected this to be easier? But instead I’m just not really... _ into  _ any of them, if that makes sense. Am I weird or something??”

 

The ghostly appearing cat sits atop his shoulders as the half-goat stumbles through the flowery fields. “You’re not weird and that makes  _ perfect  _ sense. Listen, I’ve been living on these mountains since before you were even born, so I’ve seen my fair share of satyr-meet-nymph seasons. And this is completely normal.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Finding the right nymph isn’t exactly a simple process of greeting some random beauty with a handshake and then  _ boom  _ suddenly you’re rolling on the ground with them,” Morgana says with the sway of his eerily aflamed double-tails. “It’s a matter of the heart, a little self-journeying, you see. There’s a nymph for every satyr and a satyr for every nymph. It’s a matter of taking your time and finding the right one as there typically  _ is  _ only one meant for you. Just relax, you’ll find one that you like  _ and  _ likes you back.” 

 

Akira tilts his head and frowns. “I guess so—”

 

_ “You’ve started a fiiiire in meee...one that will not diiiie~♪ ♫”  _

 

Suddenly, a dim singing voice begins to ring through the nearby trees of the more wooded area off the side of the meadow. 

 

“What’s that?” asks the satyr. 

 

“Dunno...let’s go check it out!” 

 

The two mythos creatures venture their way through the spread-out trees, the sound of Akira’s hooves trudging carefully through the ankle-high, plush grass of the forest floor becoming less and less audible as they follow to the source of the mysterious singing. Unfortunately, however, the singing does not actually improve as they were expecting. 

 

_ “And I wonder if you kneeew…” _

 

“Ugh…are we sure this is singing or the sound of some dying harpy..?” Morgana groans. 

 

Finally they arrive at the sight of the source. Peeking behind the obscurity of a bundle of thin trees, Akira is able to clearly see what is causing that horrible noise; it’s another satyr. He’s a bit smaller in stature than he is and his hair is a shorter, spikey mess of dark blue-tinted locks. He’s currently standing in the center of a sunny clearing before someone. They’re sitting down against the base of a large tree it seems, as the satyr is looking down at them and pouring his heart out in the form of song… if you could call it that. 

 

Akira glances over to see that a number of other satyrs are hiding and watching the scene unfold just as he is. Why are there so many gathered here, and what are they looking at exactly? What’s going on—?

 

_ “You were ligHtning to my dRy bush~”  _

 

His thoughts are of course cut off by the treacherous sounds of the satyr’s serenade. He can’t help but twinge a bit while being forced to listen to whatever this racket is. 

 

“Holy  _ gods,  _ he’s absolutely terrible!! I sure hope this isn’t his piss-poor attempt at wooing a nymph,” the cat mewls. Akira simply continues to watch in second-hand embarrassment from behind the trees. 

 

_ “One striKe, would buuurn doWn my foOoreEest—” _

 

“Stop, stop,  _ STOP—  _ Gods above, whatever you do, please just  _ stop  _ singing!! My poor ears cannot take this—!!” 

 

The smaller satyr immediately stops his performance and appears incredibly taken aback by his one-person audience’s words. “I-I’m sorry, d-does this not please you, my dear prince…?” 

 

“ _ Please me?  _ I  _ feel  _ as if I am being  _ tortured”  _ the voice from behind the tree barks. “I’m not sure what is worse, your singing or the fact that you have officially soiled one of my favorite poems.” 

 

“Oh! Well then, allow me to soothe your soul with a more original take on musicals!” The small satyr inhales deeply and right away bursts out into a new song, one far worse than the last. “SOome _ wheeEre—” _

 

His awful sounds are instantly ceased by his supposed prince throwing a rock towards him and just barely grazing the noisy creatures horns. The small satyr gives a shriek and scurries away into the trees with the others. Akira becomes curious and motions over to the group of satyrs where the one previously singing lies upon the ground on his knees, a look of pure defeat in his face. 

 

“Don’t worry about it too much, Mishima,” one of the other satyrs attempts to comfort the poor boy “The prince did the same thing to pretty much all of us…”

 

The small satyr only continues to whimper in distraught heartbreak. “I practiced all winter on those songs too…”

 

“Excuse me..? What just happened? Who was he singing to…?” Akira asks. 

 

“You mean you don’t know?” one of the satyrs says. “That was Akechi Goro that poor Mishima here was attempting to serenade just now, the nymph prince.” 

 

“The nymph prince…?” Akira whispers aloud to himself. 

 

Morgana purrs in assent against his ear. “Ahh, yes that’s right. The young nymph prince. Still as stoic and stubborn as always…” 

 

Now he’s just getting frustrated. Everyone is talking in riddles and acting cryptic. He’s new around here for crying out loud. 

 

“What is he?”

 

“He is the son of the late nymph princess who formerly roamed these woodlands. She was tasked with maintaining order amongst her people as well as all of the creatures in the Yongen Forest. She was a wonderful princess too...it’s a shame what happened.” The eerie feline shakes his head solemnly at the memory. 

 

“You see, she finally managed to settle down with a satyr of mutual choice. She was so, so happy with him for the longest time, the forest blossomed and thrived under the power of her creations. However, one morning, in the first day of spring, she awoke from her hibernation only to be greeted by the absence of his presence. Turns out he had left her as soon as winter had begun; And had ventured over to the other side of the mountain…with a different nymph.” 

 

The raven feels himself honestly taken aback. “A different nymph!? But that’s…”

 

“Cruel? Unnatural? Remorseless? Yes, it is. She was so heartbroken and overcome with sorrow, that she elected to allow herself to wither away in some dark cave, leaving the poor prince on his own and with a newfound disgust for all satyrs.” 

 

Akira shakes his head. “That explains all of the rejection… he probably wants nothing to do with this whole mating season altogether?” 

 

“That’s right. And yet… all of these poor saps continue trying to win his heart. Sad, honestly, how little they actually consider his feelings. Although, I do wish he could come to his senses and realize that not all satyrs are destined to betray him. He definitely needs a mate if he wants to survive winter.” 

 

The raven’s eyes widen. “W-Wait, he went through winter alone?? Isn’t that dangerous!?”

 

“Yeah, it is. That’s why I wish he could finally find someone he actually trusts. He’s a resilient one, that’s for sure. Strong too, like his mother. But going through all of winter as just a lone tree? The fact that he survived once was nothing short of a miracle. I’m not so sure he’d be able to do it again.” Morgana’s back leg reaches up to scratch at his long ears. “Not to mention the way he’s been struggling with use of his abilities. His feelings of hatred and sadness…they must be far too overbearing. I can’t remember the last time the prince has been able to successfully create something.” 

 

Akira tilts his horned head with knitted brows. “Well, hopefully one of these hundreds of satyrs manages—?”

 

Just then, out of the corner of his eye, he spots something glowing emerge itself further from the large tree in the center of the clearing. He finally turns his head to look over and from this position, he’s now able to see the prince as clear as day. 

 

Despite being a creature known for looming in the sun constantly, his skin is a beautifully glowing shade of pale, like strangely golden snow glistening in the sunny rays of the clearing bouncing off of him. Mineral-laced, leafy vines wrap around his toned body as attire, across his torso, arms and all the way down to his equally exposed thighs; adding to his already luminescent features. Long, honey-auburn hair drapes over his slender shoulders while his pointy ears stick straight through, some of the strands fashioned into intricate braids with fine flowers weaved into his locks here and there. However, his crowning jewels are his eyes. Dark-red in color and hovered by his long, dark lashes. Like rubies hidden behind a thin curtain of black spinel. 

 

To call him beautiful would be an extreme understatement. He certainly  _ fits  _ the criteria of a prince. Akira feels his heart thud violently against the walls of his chest just looking at him. 

 

“Hey look, there goes Sugimura again” he hears one of the satyrs next to him snort. 

 

Akira glances back over to see another satyr standing in the center of the clearing before the prince now. This one much different than the last. He’s taller and more handsome in the face. They watch as he bows before Akechi while the brunette simply frowns and looks back down at his book. 

 

“Dear prince of the forest, I come offering you gifts,” the snobby satyr lays his obvious act on quite thick as he produces a woven sack from behind him, untying the rope sealing it and opening it to reveal a glimmering assortment of gemstones. “The finest jewels from the mountain’s mines, harvested with utmost care and chosen to your liking. And now with your permission, I humbly ask for your hand once more—” 

 

“I told you ‘no’ once already. Now leave me be and go bother somebody else with your pretentious sack of rocks.” 

 

The well-kept satyr looks extremely taken aback by Akechi’s cold attitude and all he can muster is stuttering words as his act completely falls apart on the spot. “Sack of  _ rocks!?  _ B-But, your majesty, I-I—”

 

“Oh, and a word of advice...if you are going to put on some abysmal act in an attempt to snuggle up to royal connections, then do make a better effort to groom yourself next time. I can’t tell if that’s the crystallized sulfur from your bag or  _ you  _ that I smell,” the prince says while idly flipping a page in his book, not once even bothering to look up at his suitor. 

 

The satyr sputters while glancing down into his bag before growling and trudging off to the tune of the other half-goats around him barking with laughter. 

 

The raven pays no attention to them, however. He’s still far too busy being transfixed on the heavenly forest being sitting against the tree a little ways away from him, his book held propped against his knees while he ignores all distractions around him. 

 

“He’s  _ feisty,”  _ Akira mutters. 

 

“Yes, but he also  _ hates satyrs,”  _ argues Morgana. The otherworldly feline floats away from his shoulders to stand before him on a small boulder, giggling. “Although I suppose that isn’t stopping  _ you.”  _

 

“What do you mean?” 

 

“I know that look on your face, I’ve seen it in hundreds of your kind,” the grin that stretches across Morgana’s face just then closely resembles that of a Cheshire Cat. “That’s the face of a satyr who’s in  _ loove~ _ ” 

 

Akira sputters as a blush burns into his cheeks. “W-What, n-no! Don’t say that— I mean…he’s beautiful, yes, but I really just wanna try  _ talking _ to him more than anything. Everyone else sort of just...prances out there and parades around some blatant proposal. It’s kind of degrading if anything.” 

 

“Hmph..” the cat swishes his tail with a modest smile. “You have a good heart. Maybe that’s exactly what the young prince needs is someone like you.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  


And so begins Akira’s many attempts to become closer with the mysterious nymph prince. 

 

Akechi himself is currently lounging upon a flat-surface boulder positioned  _ just so _ in the sunlight. Akira assumes he’s sunbathing. Apparently it’s how forest nymphs maintain their semi-immortal long lifespans, through taking time to bask occasionally in sunlight for extended periods of time. Much like plants, funny enough. 

 

Regardless, it’s an opportunity. 

 

Akira watches him carefully from the obscurity of the shady trees, pan flute in hand and a bit of shyness looming in his stomach. 

 

“So what’s your big plan here, exactly?” whispers Morgana. 

 

“I’m not planning to sing or kill his hearing like Mishima if that’s what you’re wondering. I’m gonna go in, approach him, and just play—a-and if he wants to hear me  _ then  _ I’ll talk!” 

 

“Mm. Sounds decent enough. But just remember,” mutters the cat carefully, “the prince prefers people to be respectful of his space. So keep some boundaries and only approach if he permits it. Alright then, half-goat, go get ‘em.”

 

Akira admittedly feels his knees wobble a little bit from nervousness, but refuses to let it get to him. Forcing the butterflies in his stomach down, he takes the initiative and steps forward into the small, grassy clearing by the mountain side, right before the prince. 

 

Akechi spots him right away and turns his head against the rock to glance at him with a lazy, half-lidded look, one that quickly turns into a scowl once he recognizes what he’s looking at. 

 

The dark satyr does his best to refrain from flinching. Deep breaths, deep breaths. 

 

_ Daemonia Nymphe,  _ a song passed between the satyr race for generations upon generations. It’s quite a famous song belonging to one of many that their people’s most prominent ancestor, Pan, relinquished to his kind. Akira knows not of how to win a nymph’s heart, let alone a prince. However, he does possess a gift for his music. This song in particular is a rhythm traditionally sung for the purpose of soothing and serenading nymphs in particular. 

 

Maybe it’ll work.

 

Akechi’s scowl deepens the more Akira draws out the lingering silence out of sheer awkwardness. Before he knows it, the prince is already blowing him off by giving an audible huff and turning on his side, facing away from him. 

 

Maybe. 

 

Akira clears his throat and lifts the pan flute to his lips, closing his eyes as he begins to play. 

 

He starts off slow. Remembering all that his grouchy mentor from the east had taught him since childhood. Begin with the G-tube, then slowly yet increasingly maneuver your blows across the twenty-two pipes to the D-tube—stop, then retreat back to the beginning mark and then once more to the very end of the other side of the pipes. He can still hear the old goat berate him in his mind. 

 

_ “Make sure to move your hands, not your whole head— and for the love of gods, try not to get any spit in the tubes!!” _

 

As he plays, his mind naturally comes to ease itself. His shoulders relax greatly and his bow legs cease their incessant shaking as he finds himself officially lost in the world of his audible art. A certain tempo arises from his performance. It begins slow at first, shy, then divulges into a more cheerful range of tunes that play upon one’s ears. Melodious beats of jingles and deeper, lower sounds weave themselves into the air. It’s a warm song, one known for soothing the mind of any who hear it. Neither heavy nor light, but a mellow pitch just between. 

 

Naturally, Akira feels his muscles begin to move on their own instinctually. His hooves drag against the ground behind him as his legs cross together and unravel and spin, weaving and bobbing, dipping and lifting. Another musical habit of his that Sojiro unfortunately could not break. 

 

The sounds of his flute mix perfectly with that of the nature around him. The birds, the rustle of leaves, even the wind itself all match coordinately with his rhythm. He loses himself a bit and continues his unlaced performance for as long as he wants, or at least until his body gives way to tirement and the song finally ends. 

 

For a moment, he forgets where he even is. Then in the midst of his heavy breathing, it hits him. And he finds himself almost hesitant to open his eyes out of fear that either the prince has ran away, began glaring at him, or is two seconds away from throwing a book at his face. 

 

When he opens his smokey gray eyes to the world, he instead finds the prince sitting up with his legs crossed upon the rock, hands in his lap and looking at him with a focused and intense expression. Even more to his surprise, he soon finds the prince speaking to him in quite a calm tone. 

 

“You know how to play pan flute?”

 

Akira snorts. “I hope that isn’t a sarcastic response.”

 

“It isn’t,” the nymph lifts a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind one of his pointed ears. “I haven’t heard it in years but it admittedly brings a calm warmth to me.”

 

The dark furred satyr watches as a tiny smile grows onto the prince’s face. “My mother used to play it for me; to lull me to sleep. I used to enjoy listening to the satyrs play in ceremony circles every spring.” However, the smile quickly diminishes. “ _ Used  _ to.” 

 

“You don’t like my song?”

 

Akechi squints at him for a moment and then settles for a simple shrug. “It’s nice.” For a moment, they just remain still. Content with simply staring at each other. Then the smile returns to prince Akechi’s face, although a bit tentative. “Your dancing could use a bit of work though.” 

 

Akira scoffs. “How so?”

 

“Your hoof movements seemed rather off. Perhaps they’re in need of adjusting or cleaning.”

 

The raven blinks and then turns his attention away downward to his hooves to inspect them closely. “Oh come on, they’re not  _ that  _ bad—”

 

When he lifts his head back up, he finds that the prince is no longer sitting upon the rock. The small sound of leaves rustling catches his attention and when he glances over to the rest of the woodlands he spots a blurred glimpse of the nymph running off, disappearing into the cover of the shadowy trees. 

 

Well, at least he didn’t throw anything at him. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


“Maybe a more direct approach will do the trick this time.” 

 

“I don’t think a direct approach for the prince is a very good idea at all…especially not like  _ this!!” _

 

Morgana’s quiet shrieks of protest fall to deaf ears as Akira peaks over the ledge atop the waterfall. He spots Akechi somewhere below, idly standing beneath one of the more gentle streams of water. 

 

“Why not?” Akira whispers. “You said yourself that the guy could use a little bit of fun now and then, right?” 

 

“Yes, but I don’t think it is a good idea to embark on such a notion while his highness is in the middle of  _ bathing,”  _ the cat hisses. “Not even the most pesky of satyrs like the ones from before are brash enough to interfere with a nymph’s personal cleanse!!” 

 

Once again, the ghostly feline’s words fail to reach the dark satyr as he’s already standing up out of the water and stepping backwards for a running start. Taking his mark, he kicks off the shallow floor of the stream and guns towards the edge of the of the falls; leaping off the edge, into the air, flipping, whooping, and finally dropping down the fifteen meter clearance into the sun-glistened plunge pool below. The prince barely has any time to properly react as the enormous splash created by the satyrs actions quite literally flood over him. 

 

Morgana grits his fangs and shakes his head. “Ohh…this is gonna be bad…”

 

After a few moments, Akira emerges from the depths of the pool with a heavy gasp followed by a heartful laugh. He casually looks over to the prince who is currently standing still with drenched bangs covering his handsome face and smiles. 

 

“Oh, heeey! What a coincidence, we’re both bathing under the same falls!” 

 

Akechi says nothing as his hands slowly come up to dip underneath his hair and push the soaked locks back over the top of his head, revealing a deeper than ever scowl etched across his features. Akira only continues to smile like an idiot at him despite the prince giving him a glare that could kill a thousand men. 

 

After a few moments the prince finally opts to say something. “Tell me, satyr, do you  _ enjoy  _ being a nuisance?” 

 

Akira laughs while climbing out of the pool. “Only if I get to be one around  _ you.”  _

 

Akechi huffs and steps away from the gentler, beating water of side of the fall. He knits his brows together as he emerges from his spot behind the covering of bushes and small branches and approaches the satyr. And right then, right there, is when his entire plan instantly falls to pieces. 

 

The raven’s playful aura gradually fades into an open mouthed stutter when he notices the prince is completely naked. No leaves, no vines, not even the flowers typically weaved into his hair. Just his natural, toned body glowing in the gentle sunlight before him. Akira tries desperately not to let his eyes wander, but his efforts fail on their own as his gray eyes glance downward at the nymph’s curvaceous form. 

 

“You like what you see, satyr?” His eyes immediately snap back up to Akechi’s to find the forest dweller now looking at him with a half-lidded expression and the slight curve of the corner of his lips in the form of a smirk. “It’s alright, go ahead and stare for as long as your desiring eyes please. I don’t mind one bit…”

 

The raven’s eyes head to the order and drag themselves down, but immediately shoot back up as he shakes his head in realization that the nymph is getting awfully close to him. The same suggestive expression plastered to his way-too-pretty face as his hips sway side to side hypnotically. “Wouldn’t it be nice, I bet, to finally win the heart of your  _ beloved prince?  _ To outwit all of the other satyrs, finally?”

 

Akira begins walking backwards, nearly tripping on his own hooves as the nymph backs him against a nearby tree, his dripping-wet, nude form a mere inches away from the satyrs shivering one before officially pressing against him. 

 

“Your hips...planted firmly between my legs,” his hand comes up to draw circles on his chest with a single, tantalizing finger. “You would love that wouldn’t you? It is every satyrs dream after all to make love to the prince of the forest whom they know so little about, the most  _ beautiful nymph in the forest _ , as they say?” 

 

Akira feels an intense blush creep across his face and nearly scorch his own skin. “I-I, uh…”

 

The satyr is so preoccupied with embarrassment and bewilderment that he doesn’t think much of the hand that comes up to glide over his shoulder and up his neck, reaching around to the back of his head to stroke his horns. “That  _ is  _ what you came here for, isn’t it..?”

 

Akira stutters. “N-No, actually—”

 

Before he knows it, he feels the nymphs hand grasp tightly around his horn and pull it up and over, shoving it hard between a forked branch in the tree the younger one is pushed against. Trapping him there as the prince’s face immediately returns to a scowl and grits his teeth. 

 

“Filthy Satyr trash. You’re all the  _ same.”  _

 

Akechi releases his grip on his horn and storms off as his attire regrows itself back onto his body, leaving the poor satyr there with his horn trapped between the rubbery branch. 

 

Akira, long snapped out of his trance, stumbles against the base of the tree, kicking and grunting while fultiley attempting to pull himself free. Before long, a familiar, ghostly presence invaded his space and looms over him from atop another branch, shaking it’s head visibly at the sight before it. 

 

“I told you he would not take kindly to you interfering with his bath. You satyrs are so damn stubborn!” 

 

“Would you please  _ just  _ help me out of this?!”

 

Morgana sighs as he hops over to the other’s branch. Protruding his aflamed claws, he swipes downward across the wooden appendage, slicing it clean off and causing the satyr to fall freely to the ground with a thud. 

 

“Thanks…”

 

“You should try to slow down a little more. I know how badly you wish to get to know the nymph prince, but charging into the situation isn’t going to do any good—”

 

_ “AGH!! Get your disgusting hands off of me!!” _

 

Suddenly, a faint yell of distress sounding through the trees catches their attention. It isn’t very far off from here and it sounds like… 

 

“What was that?”

 

“That sounds like Akechi—”

 

“H-Hey, where are you going!?”

 

Akira wastes no time questioning. Kicking himself off the ground, he immediately races down through the forest down the same path where he had previously watched the prince storm off, heading towards the source of the noise as quickly as possible. 

 

It doesn’t take long for him to locate where the sounds of yelling are coming from. Just a little ways away, he spots the prince scrapping with a satyr significantly larger than the both of them. The creature is easily above two meters tall and burly in his built. Yet the nymph doesn’t dare give in. 

 

“You’re being awfully stubborn for someone who’s supposed to be the ruler of the forest, why don’t you just pick a mate and get on with it!?” 

 

Akechi grits his teeth and growls as he pulls roughly against the enormous beast’s grip, his other hand swings upwards in the form of a fist straight to the side of his face. He manages to land the punch and even knock the creature’s jaw loose, however it serves to only piss it off even more as the large satyr raises a fist of his own. 

 

Akira doesn’t even think, doesn’t even  _ consider  _ the possible repercussions of what he’s about to do. Before the other beast can act, the smaller, darker satyr charges straight into him horn-first, head-butting the creature in the gut and sending him to the ground successfully. 

 

Before the bastard can even fully stand up and ready a retaliation, the other satyr leaps up high, grabs his horns as if they’re handle bars, and kicks his hooves against the beast’s chest as hard as he can, knocking the wind right out of him. 

 

Despite Akira’s best efforts, however, it doesn’t appear to be quite enough. The enormous satyr swings an arm across and knocks the smaller one away to the ground. The beast stomps and storms straight for him, looming over his body and raising a bow-leg above him; and right as Akira braces himself for the impact of a very heavy hoof being brought down to crush him—

 

“Hey, bastard.”

 

The giant satyr pauses and glances behind him as the prince brings a heavy branch to the back of his only standing leg. The beast caves and falls on his ass, to which the angry nymph responds by pulling back and swinging the hefty limb directly across his horned head, effectively knocking him out cold. 

 

Akechi approaches the befallen beast and continuously stomps his own barefoot onto his back out of simple rage and annoyance. 

 

_ “Disgusting. Piece of. Half. Goat. SHIIIT!!”  _ Akira watches with intimidated yet admiring eyes as the prince overdoses his finishing touch on the already defeated creature with a series of consecutive stomps. “ _ UGH.”  _

 

When Akechi finally finishes, he turns to glare at the other satyr still on the ground and looking up at him with a slightly dropped jaw. Akira knows this should not turn him on as much as it does, but it does. 

 

However, the raven quickly snaps out of his second trance and rises to his feet to address the prince who’s still panting from the tussle just now. 

 

“A-Are you okay..?”

 

Akechi stares at him for a moment before finally ridding himself of his glaring expression and nodding his head. “Yes, I am. Are you?” 

 

Akira beams. “Oh, of course! Hell, I feel so good I could take that asshole on again—” His own words are cut off as his injuries give in and he falls to his knees. However, he feels a pair of arms wrap around him as the prince carefully escorts him to a nearby tree in a patch of sunlight to sit him up against. The nymph sits on his knees beside him and takes his hands in his own, cupping them tightly. Before he knows it, Akira feels a strange warmth begin to course through his body. They remain like that for a few moments, just in silence as the nymph heals him.

 

Akechi is the first to speak up. “Why...did you do that? He was much bigger than you. He could have killed you easily. Anyone with reason would have simply left me there.”

 

Akira laughs. “Guess I’m pretty unreasonable then.”

 

The nymph pauses once more. Akira has always thought it difficult to read the prince, yet now he can see him contemplating his words. Hesitant on what to say next. 

 

“...That was very brave what you did. Thank you.” 

 

The satyr simply smiles. “Of course.” 

 

“Oh, and…I must apologize. Sorry for doing that to your horn earlier…” 

 

“Aha it’s okay,” Akira grins cheekily. “If anything, I kind of deserved it. I should have realized that you were, uh, naked..” 

 

Akechi tilts his head to look at him. His expression turns somewhat guilty. “You truly were only trying to talk, weren’t you?” 

 

“Y-Yeah, but really, don’t feel bad! You have been forced to put up with all of these other impatient satyrs trying to woo you and win your heart constantly, treating you like some kind of prize. I can’t imagine how much stress you’re going through, your highness—”

 

“Would you show me your pan flute again? I rather enjoyed the performance you put on last. I would love to hear more,” the nymph smiles at him. Akira physically feels his heart skip a beat at the sight of the prince’s much warmer expression. He simply nods and happily obliges. 

  
  
  
  
  


From that morning until the sunny evening, they sit together underneath that very same tree, close to each other’s comforting presence and conversing to their hearts’ content. 

 

It is a refreshing change, really. To see the prince smiling and laughing so much. It warms the dark satyrs heart. It only just now hits him how late in the day it’s become. Surely his highness must be in need of a rest. 

 

“Ah, I didn’t realize how late it was. I’m sure you're finding yourself to be exhausted, uh, dear prin—”

 

“Goro, if you please. I’d like you to refer to me by my given name,” he says, tilting his head with a soft and pleased smile. Akira shoots him a smile on return as well as a few nods of approval before standing up finally. They’d been sitting and speaking for hours now. 

 

“Well then, I should probably get out of your way for now. I’ll head home for the rest of the day. I hope we can speak like this again—”

 

Before he realizes it, he feels a pair of arms wrap themselves tightly around his neck and in the next moment, a pair of lips pressing against his own. Goro had lunged himself off the ground to cut off the satyrs words with a gentle, but not at all hesitant kiss. 

 

The other’s tongue begins to poke at his lips, begging for entry to which Akira happily allows. Their mouths maneuver to make way for their tongues. The two muscles sliding together, rubbing against one another in a twistful dance as the prince audibly moans into the kiss. Much to the satyr’s delight and surprise, Goro’s lips, tongue, and saliva all taste  _ sweet.  _ A distinctful yet unique saccharine sensation fills his mouth, tasting of honey and various fruit. 

 

The kiss alone feels more than heavenly. Akira can’t help but close his eyes as one of his hooves stomp rapidly against the ground to the beat of his tiny tail wagging side to side. He feels Goro giggle into their kiss as the prince pulls back just a little, their lips still brushing together as close as they can be. 

 

“A little excited are we?” he whispers softly against the satyr’s lips. Akira merely responds by wrapping his arms around the nymph’s slender body to pull him closer into an even deeper kiss. 

 

Still locking lips, Goro allows his knees to buckle and lowers the two of them to the ground. The prince now finds himself lying on his back with the satyr tucked closely on top, his hips between his legs. 

 

Akira feels himself blush deeply at the sight of the nymph. The forest dweller in all of his glowing and shimmering radiance, lying on his back upon the plush, grassy floors of the sunlit woodlands. His brunette, flower-woven hair spread out around his head like a halo. His pink lips just slightly agape as he looks up at him with those same ruby-like eyes he grew to fall so deeply in love with, batting his dark lashes and signaling for him to continue as the vines that once wrapped tightly around his body begin to unravel themselves for the sake of exposure. The prince’s expression is filled with nothing but love and content as he awaits for the satyr to fulfill the process. He’s more beautiful than anything he’s ever laid eyes on. It makes Akira’s heart race against the confines of his chest. 

 

The raven haired satyr leans down to plant one last kiss to the other’s sweet lips before maneuvering himself backwards, hands gliding across the prince’s waist and curvy hips and settling for his milky thighs. His face now a mere inches away from the prince’s aching cock. 

 

He wants to make this last for as long as possible. He wants to make his soon-to-be mate feel as good as he possibly can. It will be his first time, after all. No need to rush. 

 

Akira’s tongue comes up to drag itself across Goro’s cock, slowly working along the shaft and up to the tip where his lips then encompass around the member gently and sucks. The sounds of the nymph whimpering is a beautiful resonance to him. He brings his head downward, upward, bobbing himself up and down his cock until pulling away with utmost care. His tongue laps against the tip of his erection once more, tasting the equally sugary pre-cum as sweet as his saliva from earlier. 

 

Then, his attention turns a little further downward. Pushing apart his thighs even more to spread him out, he drags his lips down and over to the inside of the nymphs soft, fleshy thighs, nibbling and kissing each tantalizing section of skin lovingly. Traveling downward, he finds the prince’s sensitive hole before him, to which his lips continue on with their incessant kissing once more. 

 

The sensations must be overbearing for the poor prince as all he can do is writhe and squirm under the satyr’s delicate touch. The soft press of his lips against his entrance elicits a moan from the brunette, one that rings through the sunlit trees along with their elated breaths as if it’s natural. 

 

Before long, he brings his tongue to his entrance, licking hot, slow stripes across the twitching ring of muscles until finally pushing inside. In and out, in and out, his tongue moves as his head moves back and forth in a rhythmic manner. The tip of the slick muscle grazes ever so gently across the brunettes prostate, to which he responds with an audible groan. 

 

“Ohh,  _ Akiraa…” _

 

Everything,  _ everything  _ tastes so, so very sweet. A mixture of tang from his pre-cum and the sweet, honey-like sugar of his skin. It’s so sweet it’s almost enough to get him drunk. Akira honestly feels as if he could do this all day if he truly wanted, just him, between his lover’s legs and reveling in the delicious sounds his prince makes with each taste of saccharine cum and natural lubricant against the satyrs senses. 

 

Hundreds of satyrs would probably  _ kill  _ to be in his position right now. But that doesn’t matter to him. No, all that matters now and forever is  _ Goro.  _ Beautiful, fair, divine, brave  _ Prince Goro.  _

 

Eventually, Akira manages to pull himself away from the other’s sweet taste and hover over his body once more. 

 

The satyr looks down at him and laughs. “I’d kiss you, but I’m afraid thi—” 

 

The brunette ignores his words and reaches up to tug at his horns and pull him down to take his lips once more, this time far deeper than previously. The overwhelmingly sweet taste takes over his senses even more with each swipe of the nymph’s tongue against the inside of his mouth. Goro doesn’t even mind where his lover’s lips have been, he doesn’t care. All he, the both of them, desire at the moment is each other. To run their eager hands all along one another’s naked bodies. To finally,  _ finally  _ connect with one another in the most sacred and permanent way they can. 

 

As their tongues entangle with another, Akira slides a hand downward between them, between the nymph’s legs until locating his sensitive hole. The tip of his index rubs against his entrance soothingly, half lubricating itself with the slickness of the forest dweller’s arousal and eventually pushing inside. Akira opens his eyes for only a brief moment just to analyze his lover’s reactions. The way his eyes shut tightly and his breathing picks up as his fingers continuously slide in and out with gradually growing ease. 

 

Goro eventually pulls away for a breath of air as well as assurance for Akira to continue. “Okay, I am ready now…” he sighs breathlessly. “Take me as you will.” 

 

With that, Goro resumes his position upon his back, his arms laid on either side of his head as he looks up at the satyr with all of the patience and love in the world. Akira can feel his heart beat loudly against his chest, an even stronger rhythm than all the times before when he had laid eyes on the nymph prince previously. The satyr follows his majesty’s command all the same though. 

 

Straightening himself, Akira positions his hips between the other’s legs once more. His rough hands reach over to grab at Goro’s shapely hips and pulls him closer. Angling the tip of his cock against his slick and prepared entrance, he carefully, slowly, pushes inside; gradually filling the prince to the brim. 

 

“A...A-Akira..”

 

“Shh, babe. It’s okay,” the satyr breathes as one hand reaches up to stroke at his brunette locks. “I’m going to make you feel really good, I promise.” 

 

“I want you—I want you to take me whole. Take me… as yours forever…” 

 

His breathless and begging words alone cause the satyr to officially lose himself right then and there. Centuries of ancient instincts kick in and his grip upon the nymph’s luscious hips tighten, his fingers denting into the flesh of his thighs as he spreads him apart somewhat roughly. His breathing comes out in the form of gradually increasing stutters as he quickly picks up pace, although still attempting to maintain parts of his composure for the sake of the prince’s comfort, giving him time to adjust to the stretching. As soon as he deems him easy enough to enter, however, he allows his own intense feelings of arousal to overtake his senses. 

 

Akira’s cock slides in and out of the other with ease. The erratic movements of his hips rock the nymph back and forth against the forest floor as he fucks into the beauty at a painstaking pace. At one point, he plunges one hand underneath the dip of the brunettes back while the other holds onto his hip, lifting his lower half off of the ground for a better angle. 

 

“A-Aha—A-Aki…” the satyr watches with wild eyes as the prince throws his head back and moans shamelessly into the April air as his beloved satyr continues to pound relentlessly into his sweet spot. “P-Please, more. I want more—I need more… _ Gods,  _ Aki, you feel so  _ amazing! _ ”

 

The sight of the nymph giving his entire self to him, his body left completely vulnerable and offered up as his for the taking, combined with the beautiful and sweet, breathless, high pitched call of his name without a single care in the world of who or what hears it—it drives Akira  _ insane.  _ He finally feels that familiar heat pooling in the center of his middle as his composure breaks at last. 

 

His other hand quickly takes to Goro’s neglected cock and begins to stroke it with both impatience and care. “A-Akira—Akiraa..!!” The other moans hoarsely into the air as streaks of white shoot across his smooth stomach. The satyr ceases his thrusts at last and holds onto his lover’s hips for dear life as he releases everything into him.

 

“Goooro…” Akira throws his head back towards the sky as he rides out the waves of intense, hot pleasure. 

 

Eventually, after some moments of just simply remaining perfectly still and connected with his new mate, Akira finally calms down from his high and slowly pulls out of the nymph’s well-fucked hole, eliciting a small yet tired whimper from the brunette. The satyr carefully sets his hips back down upon the ground. He shifts himself from between the other’s bruised legs and exhaustedly lays himself beside the prince on the abnormally plusher than usual forest floor. Right as he does, something rather interesting catches his eye. 

 

“Hey...Goro, look,” the satyr gestures to the bed of colorfully arranged wild flowers surrounding them from all sides, even underneath them as they lay upon it. “These weren’t here before… which means you must have made these— you made flowers!” 

 

Goro’s eyes light up when he shifts his head to look around. Eventually, he turns to stare upon the gorgeous, blooming gathering of daffodils in front of his satyr’s face. After gazing for a moment, he smiles. 

 

“Yeah…I suppose I did.” 

  
  
  
  
  


Throughout the remainder of the warmer months, Akira, the dark furred satyr who was once deemed a stranger to these woods and Goro, the once lonely and disheveled nymph prince of the forest, spend every possible ounce of time they can muster with each other. Whether that be more of the thoughtful conversations that invoked their relationship from the beginning, playing and prancing together freely around the trees to the rhythm of the pan flute, or just simply napping within the comforting hold of each other in the gentle rays of the warm sunlight. 

 

At long last, the nymph prince had finally found his spark. With his heart now filled with utmost joy, his abilities as a nymph of majesty are able to truly burst forth. The forest blossoms like never before under his touch. Fields of thousands of flowers return to the meadows, trees thicken and grow, and all plant life thrives with careful consideration, even to the smallest blade of grass. The forest’s destined ruler was finally able to straighten himself and proudly take his rightful place as prince. All with the help of his loving satyr too, of course, who in which always stays loyally by his side. 

 

Needless to say, the other satyrs who had fawned over the prince were practically  _ fuming  _ with jealousy when they learned he had miraculously found a mate with a  _ newcomer satyr  _ nonetheless. 

 

To say that Akira does not grin to himself and feel an enormous amount of smug pride every time he walks by the others with his Goro close by his side would be a complete lie. 

 

Regardless, most of the forest life were more than happy for them. 

 

Time quickly passes. 

 

Spring turns to summer and summer soon turns to autumn. Winter will very soon be on its way to Yongen Forest. The leaves have already morphed into their annual, vibrant shades of orange and red. It will be the prince’s first winter with a satyr for protection rather than his own self. 

 

“You are sure you will be okay?”

 

“Goro, I’ll be  _ fine, _ I promise. Maybe a little  _ cold— _ but I mean, that’s what these fluffy legs are for I guess,” Akira laughs.  “And more importantly, I’ll definitely be here the whole time, especially when it’s time for you to wake up. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” 

 

The nymph can’t help but smile at his optimism. It’s been rubbing off on him an awful lot lately. 

 

The smile turns hopeful as he faces the satyr, eyes soft yet flickering with faith. He reaches for the other’s hands and leans in for a deep, prolonged kiss. After some moments, he pulls back, still holding onto the others hands as he slowly steps away. 

 

“See you next spring, my love.” 

 

With that, Goro finally releases the others hands and brings his own to cross over his chest. His ruby eyes disappear behind lashes as he closes his eyes and allows the yearly process of transmogrification to take its course. Akira watches as his milky skin turns into a pale colored bark with dim hints of stripes here and there, even his locks of honey-brown hair becoming flowering limbs of reds, whites, golds, and navy blues. His bodily structure shifts and changes until finally he’s what every nymph originates as from birth; a humble tree. 

 

Akira sighs and sits back upon the leaf-covered ground, gazing up at his nymph in his truest form. 

 

“See you next spring.” 

  
  
  
  
  


The three and a half months of harsh winter that come after that are admittedly a bit of a struggle, to say the least. 

 

Throughout most of the duration of the nymph hibernation period, he spends the majority of his time curled up next to Goro’s tree. Guarding him, protecting him from all walks of threats and possible dangers. 

 

As the time goes on, it only becomes increasingly more and more difficult. Come late December to mid February, it often snows. A lot. So much that Akira usually finds himself covered with an icy blanket of the annoying white fluff after every short-lived slumber. It’s times like this when he wishes the gods could’ve at least granted satyrs with some sort of torso coat for the winter. Hell, come on. Why not? It’s not like the nymphs will get to see how ugly it is. Just have it fall off when spring comes back!

 

Akira does his job as a satyr mate quite well though. 

 

Whenever a random snow storm would hit, Akira would gather up twigs, stones, and nearby pine needles and fashion up a make-shift tent for Goro’s tree to protect him. He would sharpen his horns against other, clunkier trees in preparation for possible attacks. Often times he’d sit up against the tree with his arms wrapped around the trunk, attempting to keep him warm. 

 

Hell, he would even take the time to decorate Goro for Christmas and New Years. He would fashion up simple things. Threads of woven together pine needles with gemstones and brightly colored berries attached to it, then wrapping it around the tree’s branches. Even adding a little make-shift star at the top for the hell of it. 

 

Every now and then Morgana would visit him. He of all people are quite well aware of how lonely the winter months can be for satyrs with nymphs, so he’s more than happy to oblige his friend with company. 

 

Although, as much as Akira misses being able to verbally speak to his lover, he doesn’t feel the least bit alone when he’s by the tree’s side. He knows he’s there. Sleeping. Waiting. 

 

He’s willing to wait all the time in the world for Goro to wake up. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


Warmth suddenly begins to fall upon his leaves, his armor of bark. He can feel his flowers and branches begin to blossom cordially. It’s not longer cold, but instead lukewarm. His consciousness slowly creeps its way back into his senses and gradually awakens him to his thoughts and surroundings. 

 

It must be time. 

 

Goro at long last awakens himself. His blossoming branches morph themselves into arms and strands of hair as they carefully retract back into his body. His covering of pale colored bark fades away into his usual, soft flesh. He takes a deep, long breath, taking in the gentle cool air of March until he uncrosses his arms and finally reveals his ruby eyes to the world again. 

 

And then his greatest fear hits him. 

 

No, he should calm down and look around first. He made a promise, after all. 

 

The nymph takes the time to scan the area around him carefully, taking in every ounce of sight before him. He’s mainly looking for one thing in particular though. 

 

“Akira…?” he calls. 

 

All around him he searches carefully. Trees with green color returning to them, bushes of flowers blooming in the wind, the nearby stream of running water, the forest floor regrowing it’s plush, grassy state, a pair of horns—

 

“GORO!!”

 

“AgH—!!”

 

Before the prince can even blink, he feels a sudden strong force pounce onto him, taking him down to the ground and wrapping tightly around him as the satyr hugs him closely and rubs his face into his chest. 

 

“Ooh, I missed you, I missed you, I missed you, I missed you, I missed you, I missed you—I’m so glad you’re awake!!” 

 

Goro smiles. “...I missed you too.” 

  
  



End file.
